


Now?

by slothie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Friendship/Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothie/pseuds/slothie
Summary: Dan and Phil goes through a severe rough patch in 2012 and early 2013. Friends who earlier hoped that they'd work it out on their own decides it's time to give Dan an intervention after being unable to reach Phil. Dans self-loathing and internalized homophobia is getting out of hand and if they can't save them both they have to make sure that Dan doesn't drag Phil down with him. They'll give him some time to try and sort it out. But then they will do everything they can to take Phil away from his toxicity.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Cat Valdes, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Kudos: 7





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Ahoy there! 
> 
> I'm not really a fanfic writer and I'm still pretty new to the DnP-community in general. However being locked in your apartment during a raging pandemic sure seems to offer opportunities to Try New Things (... I'll go home) so here goes nothing. 
> 
> As a newbie I'm far from a DnP-expert. I will not know every in and out of their relationships or timeline so please don't shit on me if I missed a tweet from 7 years ago that contradicts something in here. It's strictly fiction and not some convoluted theory on what has happened irl. Glaring errors deserving of excommunication from the Phan-community are obviously exempt!
> 
> While writing, this turned out to be longer than I thought. Like, way longer. I'm still not done but also want to get some of the stuff out there. Mainly to help me decide if I want to keep going or not.
> 
> When I ask others to read my writings I often get the question if I take criticism well. I then usually tell the story of when I cooked a new dish for my boyfriend who said he "might not want it again" after eating it. I cried for three hours and didn't cook again for a week afterwards. But I also didn't make it again. So do I take criticism? Sure! But please make it constructive and if you can find it in your heart, sugarcoat it a bit.
> 
> PS. sorry for misspellings and grammatical errors. English is my second language and you never seem to realize how crap you are at it until you start writing.

**The Invitation**

June 6th, 2013, 4.15 pm

Dan’s immersion was completely ruined when he heard his iPhone buzzing on the coffee table. The distraction led to his demise at the edge of an Energy Sword wielded by a Spartan completely customized in pink unicorn armor. His swearing would’ve brought a smile to even the most experienced navy man as his splayed corpse was teabagged obsessively by his new nemesis in pink.

Phil was still in his room. Probably even now trying to edit together his new video, the first and last ”My Tumblr Tag” Dan thought sourly. Filming it had been extremely awkward and the pile of unused material would be huge. Dan had vetoed the use of about 95% of it and had at several points while filming gotten obviously angry and made acid comments, making a lot of it unusable anyway. These comments not only about the weird shippers and fan art, but also about Phil. The way Phil only took the abuse without arguing, as he always did lately, had only served to make Dan even angrier and they hadn’t been together in the lounge since.

Phil spent most of the time alone in his room and Dan had spent even more time out of the apartment than in it. It had basically been over two weeks now when they only saw each other once or twice a day, tops. And if they did happen to run into one another the only words spoken were ”Hey.” or ”Goodnight.”. Phil always seeming to want to say more, Dan obviously brimming with the anger that had been the signature of his mood for the last year and shutting any such chance down by leaving either the room or the apartment entirely.

Phil would often go to his room when Dan played competitive multiplayer games anyway Dan mused. To be fair, the abuse Dan shouted at the TV was everything mild-mannered Phil, whose greatest gaming sins were muttered ”fucks” and squealed ”shits” during Mario Kart-races, was not. They were very angry, borderline sexist and extremely homophobic. For some reason this hadn’t seemed to bother Phil as much until recently. Well to be specific not until last year when they had…

Ripping back his mind from these dangerous territories he quit the game and checked his phone. He was surprised to see it was a text from PJ.

They were of course friendly, as close to friends as Dan usually gets actually, but their communications had always gone through Phil who’d known him since before Dan was even in the picture.

”Hey Dan. How are you doing this fine day?”

Dan snorted, looking momentarily out at the dreary and grey London skies. Only in England could June be just as depressing as November.

Dan replied, still wondering why PJ was texting him:

”just getting continually absorbed into my sofa crease, creaming noobs on halo 4. wbu?”

He didn’t need to know about the teabagging pink unicorn man defiling his corpse.

PJ’s response was almost instant.

”Well, I was actually wondering if you could drop by Chris place? I’m here in London for the day and I need to talk to you.”

Dan’s confusion had now reached a peak. Why would PJ and Chris want to meet up out of the blue? Their collective collabs were always planned meticulously and long in advance of filming by PJ and Phil, him and Chris tagging along just when it was time to get started. He even knew PJ and Phil had plans for something after the summer but Phil had hinted that this was some months away still... And again: why was he asking Dan? And why was it ”talk to you” and not ”talk to you guys” or ”talk to you and Phil”?

”sure. anything special you guys want to do?”

Dan replied, frowning a bit.

Again, PJ’s text back was very quick. As if he was just sitting there, waiting for Dans response.

”Good. I should make it clear though, Chris will not be here, he’ll be out. And Dan, I need to see you privately. Just us. So please come alone.”

Suspicion about what this could be lurked within him but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. He decided to make a final probe before he believed it...

”is sophie here as well?”

Yet again, barely had the text been sent until there was a reply.

”No, she’s home.”

A smirk formed on Dan’s face. He’d never guessed it, always thought PJ too prude even if there had been a mild sexual tension between them on several occasions while filming their different projects.

But wasn’t it obvious? He wanted Dan to come over alone. To a place where he knew he could host while his girlfriend, whom up until now seemed to be glued to the mans hip, was still back home in their minuscule university apartment. He wanted to meet privately. All but saying ”don’t tell Phil” who’m he probably had heard about the breakup from first hand.

_The breakup._

It sent a sudden jolt of pain through him. But as with most of the other times, he managed to suppress it quickly enough to manage to shift focus back to the situation at hand.

He replied ”merely a pleasure trip then? ;) sure! be there in about an hour, ok?”. Feeling extra daring when adding the winking smiley.

PJ’s answer was immediate.

”Good. Use the spare key Chris gave you guys and just let yourself in.”

Dan had expected a bit more, given the smiley and clear invitation to elaborate, but then again PJ could be a bit uptight.

Anyways it was to perfect to give up on. If he was correct this could mean PJ would want to meet up on the old fabled ”DL”. Casual, no strings attached. Exactly what he wanted. What he needed.

One of the reasons he’d been out of the apartment so much had been for casual meet-ups. The Grindr-account he had started last year had been well put to use. And even though he used a fake name and had no picture of his face, his twink-like body and on the nose descriptions of what he was looking for had gotten him all the attention he needed and more. Phil didn’t know about it of course. He wouldn’t understand. Wouldn’t be able to see that this was not about relationships, feelings or sexuality.

Dan had actually lost count by how many meet-ups there had been by now. The needs he felt might be temporarily fulfilled in an evenings meet-up, often accompanied directly afterwards by some disgust by what had happened, but waking up the next day the strange yearning would be back. If anything stronger than before and so he’d be back online looking again.

PJ could be the continuity he wanted without the commitment. He was, after all, in a similar situation then. Not to mention that PJ was one of the more good-looking guys he knew. He looked kinda like…

_Phil_

… a cut out version of “long, lanky handsome guy” from every rom-com ever made.

Of course Dan wasn’t gay or anything, but a guy has needs and it was just so much easier to meet up with other guys.

Sometimes he’d get an extra stab of guilt when thinking about Cat who he’d been dating now for the last 8 months now but he reasoned that this was by far the best solution for them. She was a whole continent away after all and they rarely spoke much anymore anyway. And it was not like it was really cheating if he was straight and strictly seeing guys for the temporary release.

_Sure thing, poof._

And so what? He thought, suddenly furious with himself for overthinking this. It’s not like he was married. Not like he had to settle down, buy a house, a yapping dog and start a god damn family right this instance. He was only turning 22 years old next week for fucks sake. He had the right to live a little. And it’s not like…

_Phil_

...Cat knew or that she even needed to know for that matter.

This was just for fun. People needed to calm down. Stop labeling everything everyone did and learn to just chill the fuck out.

Still angry for some reason he couldn’t say he started to get ready. Of course, he could be at Chris place in 5 minutes, it wasn’t by any means far. But he wanted to get ready for what would surely happen when he got there. So Dan brushed his teeth again, showered for the second time that day and spent more than 20 minutes picking out the perfume he’d thought PJ might appreciate. He ended up on a honey and musk-scent. A softer and less masculine scent than what he’d usually go for.

Dan would, after all, not be surprised if PJ would need some light coaxing and seducing even if he had initiated this. A lot of guys, especially those in otherwise happy and healthy relationships, often needed some soothing before they’d give in. It was one thing to plan what they were doing. For many it could start to get way to real once they got started. He had learnt what to do to handle such situations to get what he wanted. The right scent, the right touch. Once you knew how to play the game it basically played itself.

Rambling through the key-drawer in the hall already wearing his shoes and jacket, having spent almost double the amount of time he had thought it would take getting ready mainly thanks to his stupid and uncooperative hobbit-hair, Dan heard a creek that could only be Phils bedroom door slowly opening.

Of course, Dan thought, annoyed and already running severely late. Just bloody fucking sure.

From behind a soft and inquiring ”Hey.” in Phils voice.

Dan ignores him. Where’s that fucking key?!  
Phil was clearly unable to contain himself from asking. ”What are you looking for?”

”Key to Chris apartment.” The response short. Curt. Cutting.

”Oh, it’s the one with the crab-keychain!”

Dan could somehow hear the goofy smile forming on Phils lips as he said it.

_If you don’t love him then why does it ache, Dan?_

Dan saw it then and grabbed it, refusing to see how his hand shook and refusing to acknowledge how his breath had caught while the last thought had forced itself into his mind.

Phil carried on, ”I found it at Tescos and thought it would be fu...”

”Bye.”

Dan was down the stairs and out the door before Phil could say anymore. Even though he expected no less, he couldn’t help but feel the utter despair that had only been mounting and mounting since late last year.

If it was not work-related, Dan would barely acknowledge Phils existence, let alone deign to speak to him. Even when filming videos and talking on the radio the artifice Dan was putting out, especially when Phil was with him, was beginning to show through for all to see. Fans were noticing, especially the ones who’d been around for a while and they were getting more and more upset with them.

Phil didn’t really care about that though. What mattered was that he was working and living with someone that couldn’t even look at him anymore. Who hadn’t noticed the weight-loss on an already way to skinny frame, the darkening circles under his eyes or the now almost daily crying hidden behind the music he played in his room in order to muffle it out. Or at the very least cared enough to ask about it if he had noticed.

Dan was too busy being angry. Hating himself and attacking anyone or anything threatening the facade he had built himself over the last months. Oh, and let’s not forget, too busy screwing half of London thinking nobody would notice. It might be the least of all the things he had started slowly hating Dan for but let’s not pretend it didn’t hurt. It did. But what made the situation unbearable wasn’t loosing a boyfriend. Phil had lost those before and survived. It was loosing his best friend.

He couldn’t talk to Dan about it. Because everything they had or ever could be again, given the foundation of their relationship, was tainted by what Dan would never seem to accept in himself.

The very existence or acknowledgment of what had been was perceived as a threat to Dan. Problem was that Phil couldn’t seem to be separated from that, which also meant that Phil now was a threat. A threat Dan still forced himself to put up with, but Phil was growing convinced that was more and more for the business entanglement that was “Dan and Phil” and less and less for auld lang syne.

So, friends and neighbors, it seems his dick had unwittingly robbed him of his best friend four years ago. The thought was the most bitter one Phil can remember ever having.

The happiest period of his life had started a ticking time bomb that was finally triggered a year ago. By speculation. Questions. And online content never really meant for anyone else to see. Things that felt so easy to say out loud and publish back then. That came back to bite much later.

All the time since, hoping for a miracle, defending Dan against all the people whom he knew cared for him. Them telling him to get out while he still could. Knowing he probably should. Knowing he can’t. Watching the smoldering desolation of the person who had been...

_Fuck it Phil, don’t you start lying to yourself too._

...was his everything.

Tears again. Shit. He needs to talk, if not to Dan then anyone else. Praying Martyn was not already too fed up of this shit, he goes back into his room to make the call.


	2. The Confrontation; Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's meetup with PJ doesn't go exactly to plan.

**The Confrontation; Part 1**

June 6th, 2013, 6 pm

The fresh air seemed to clear Dans head somewhat. There’d been a minute where he felt the panic attack coming. He had no idea why they’d started up again…

_Liar. You know exactly when and why._

...after all, the crisis that had been his teen and secondary school years were long over now. He just needed to get his head back in the right place again. Stop letting everyone pressure him.

Thoughts trying to stray once again, he does what he’s been finding himself doing more and more lately. He shuts down and gets going towards Chris apartment building, completely on autopilot. Blissfully void of thoughts.

Dan knew something was off as soon as he walked in through the front door to Chris shitty little London apartment, which was probably cleaned once every 46 years or so. He couldn’t even say why.

“I’m in here Dan.”

He plastered what he knew to be a sexy little smirk on his mouth and walked towards the tiny kitchen from which he’d heard PJs voice.

PJ was sitting at the skinny bar table Chris had seemed to decide would do as a kitchen table for about half of his adult life. His own barstool directly opposite the one that was obviously meant for Dan. The only thing on the table were two large teacups with teabags in them and an electric water kettle.

”Hey…” Dan lent what he hoped looked casually and at least somewhat sexily against the doorway, still wearing the same smirk from earlier if only less confidently.

PJ answered by smiling politely and saying ”Hello Dan. Tea?”

The worrying factors were multiplying in Dans head.

They were gonna sit by a small table in the kitchen. Not on the couch, not on the bed, hell not even leaning on a counter. Not at all sexy.

PJ was smiling like a bank teller offering him a low-rate mortgage. He didn’t look nervous. He didn’t look scared. He didn’t look excited. Could it even be said to be a friendly smile?

Above all; they were drinking tea. Fucking tea. If you offered beverages before sex it was alcohol. That was basically a law. If you were underage or a recovering alcoholic then fine, a coffee might do. But.. Tea!?

The warning bells turned to sirens as he approached the table and sat down. It was chamomile tea. What. The. Actual. Fucking. Fuck. You only drank chamomile tea to help you fall asleep, to…

_Lessen your panic attacks_

…treat a cold or even a god damn tummy-ache! At no point in human history will anyone be like ”Hey babe, let's grab some chamomile tea and head up to my room” or “Want some poon? Get that bitch some chamomile tea. Bitches love chamomile tea!”.

”Sure” he said finally, his heart-pace picking up a bit.

The worry was definitely still there. But it was too late, he had invested to much stock into this now and he was still so sure that this would happen. The weirdness was just PJ being PJ. A fucking weirdo.

PJ picked up the kettle, getting ready to pour.

Dan had to do it now, get the formalities or whatever weird mating schtick PJ was pulling over with so he could relax in the knowledge that he had been right all along.

Dan leaned in, closing his eyes, placing his left hand on PJs upper right thigh and going in for a kiss.

The hand on his his chest pushing him softly back turnt all his insides to ice. He opened up his eyes, looking stupidly into PJs face. The fake customer service-smile was still there. But now his eyes seemed a bit sharper.

”We really need to talk.”

Dan heard him but could also only hear one thing blaring in his mind. The stupid fucking theme song to Reasons why Dan’s a fail.

Hello there internet! Guess what I’ve managed to do now? I’ve actually managed to sexually assault a close friend of the…

_Love of my life_

…best friend I’ve ever had! This guy can now ruin my life, tear down that friendship, kill my whole career, end the already unstable relationship I have with my current girlfriend… So basically ruin everything I have! And the absolute hell of it of course is that I’m not even…

”I’m not gay.”. He says it before he can stop himself. At the same time he looks down and realizes that his hand is still on PJs thigh. He pulls it away as if it was a scolding stove plate and not the leg of PJs trousers that he was touching.

”OK.” It’s the only reply he gets on the statement. PJs slightly raised eyebrows seem to ask if he often tries to kiss and grace the thighs of his mates but he doesn’t say any more.

Dan wants to tell PJ again but feels too stupid to do so, even if it is true. But above all he feels the panic building in him. The painfully rapid beating of his heart starts to get dimmed by the even worse clawing feel of his closing and cramping airways.

”Tea.” PJ states calmly as if never interrupted at all earlier, pouring the hot water over the bag in Dans cup, releasing the steam and aroma of the chamomile.

The tea and PJs still laid back attitude to what just happened seem to stabilize Dan enough to start pull himself somewhat together. After some long heavy breaths, hopefully not to obvious ones, he’s able to begin to calm down.

PJ gives him some time, pretending to appreciate the smell of his teacup. It’s quite clearly a play for time since Dan needs a full minute to collect himself but PJ pulls it off quite well.

Dan, still wildly desperate to smooth things over, starts up again ”Look man, it’s not what you think, I’m really not into that kind of stuff, I just…”

”I didn’t come here to discuss that Dan.”

The finality in PJs voice cutting him off both startle and annoy Dan. What could possibly be more important than clearing this mess up? But fine, he’ll bite.

”So” Dan says, deciding to give his awkward feeling hands something to do by wrapping both around his steaming cup. ”What did bring you here to ye happy ol’ London?”

PJ looks him full in the face, expression the same as when Dan came in.

”Phil.”

Dan tenses a bit. ”You said not to bring him.”

”That’s because I was sent to talk to you about this. And to be even more specific, about your recent behavior towards him.”

Dans until now steadying clutch to the cup grew into a vice grip. He barely felt what should be a rather unbearable heat. What PJ just said hit twice.

First of all; Sent? By whom? What was this?

Second of all; How dare they, whoever they were, talk about them behind their backs? And reviewing his behavior, not even towards them but to Phil, who as a grown ass man could speak and think for himself?

Confusion and fury shone through him so clearly PJ couldn't have missed even if he tried.

Obviously trying to calm him down PJ speaks matter-of-factly and still with that infuriating smile on his face.

“I think the reasonable place to start is by saying that I speak not only for myself but for a group of 10 – 12 people depending on how you count us. All more or less close to Phil, to you or to the both of you.”

“Who?” The way he asks it makes very clear it’s not a question but a demand to know.

“That is of less concern than the matter at hand.”

Dan gets so angry at this reply that he almost wants to slap PJ right on the spot.

“So, I’m just supposed to find myself in being lectured by some secret cabal of people to chickenshit to tell me what they think directly to my face?”

PJs eyes sparkle a bit at what Dan says.

“A cabal might be a far to cool word to describe us. Suffice it to say, people who care. Friends, family, colleagues...”

The cogs immediately start turning in Dans head.

Family? That one’s easy, his doesn’t give two shits, not about him and even less about Phil. It’s gotta be Martyn. Maybe one or more of Phils cousins as well. And friends, well that’s definitely PJ, probably that bitch of a girlfriend he has and Chris…

  
“So, Chris too scared to stay in his own apartment when cornering me about stuff which is of no concern to any of you?”

There’s a small wince on PJs face at this. It does Dan a world of good to see it. It makes him feel like he has some control on this situation.

“Look Dan, this might be the time to tone down the angst a bit and listen to people who want to help.”

But Dan is already back to trying to figure out who the rest could be. It brings him great pleasure to expose them. Call them out on their holier than thou bullshit.

Colleagues is harder. It could be other youtubers as well as people connected to the radioshow. Thinking harder on friends instead, something begins to hit home. The tea. The flavor of it. Giving him a lot of time to collect himself when upset. Therefore probably knowing this type of situation could induce a panic attack and also knowing how he calms himself down. His heart sinks because he already knows who it must be. Bry.

“Is Bryony part of this group?”

PJ doesn't wince or look at all surprised by the deduction. For a few seconds he looks like he’s just considering whether to answer or not. Then he does.

“Yes. She is. She told me I could tell you that if I thought it’d help make you take this seriously.”

Dan visibly slumps down at this information. Of all the friends they have there’s only one he’d thought could actually… Well, like him as much or more than Phil.. That might take his side, that he trusted more than anyone...

“Look. No one thinks this is fun Dan. All I’m asking… begging really, is that you’ll listen to what I say. I’ll give you the last word and promise to communicate anything you want on to the others. Okay?”

Dan wrestles with the idea of just getting up, telling him to fuck off and leaving but for some reason decides to stay. He needs to know.

“Ok.” It’s the worlds shortest reply. But it seems to be everything PJ needs to carry on. 


End file.
